


Were we ever friends?

by Norski



Category: Eddsworld
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 15:11:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14138673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Norski/pseuds/Norski
Summary: He can't pretend they weren't lovers first.





	Were we ever friends?

**Author's Note:**

> I've been listening to hold me tight (or dont) for about 12 hours on repeat this was inevitable.

Tom closed his eyes, body relaxing as he felt familiar lips against his own. They felt different, half taken over by scarring. Tom melted into hands that touched his back and hip, one feeling more natural than the other. He didn’t fight as the buttons of his jacket were undone, his tie was tugged and loosened, those lips against his own keeping him well and truly captivated. They moved to his jaw, to his neck, trailing kisses over it, and his head tilted to allow easier access. His shirt was unbuttoned, exposing his chest, which he thought nothing of. He didn’t care, it didn’t matter, those lips against him was all he cared for.

Then those lips and soft kisses became teeth and searing pain, jolting Tom out of his trance. His eyes snapped open, only to half lid, shuddering once he adjusted to the sharp pain. Both hands were on him, on his skin, one on the small of his back and one on his chest, cold metal contrasting warmth. 

It felt right, but only for a few more moments. He let himself sink as deep as he could into the lie that this was like how things used to be, when they lived together. Before the army. Before things had gone wrong, but it only worked for so long. As a hand reached his buckle, one of his own gripped the offending wrist, reluctantly pulling himself back to reality.

Tord was only trying to recruit him again, with lies and playing on old feelings.

“Let go of me, Tord.”

With that, Tord backed away, and Tom released his wrist. They weren’t in their twenties anymore, dicking about in each other’s bedrooms when Edd and Matt were out. Those days were long gone, and longing for them was going to land Tom in hot water if he kept letting Tord get this close to him. He began to button his shirt back up, glaring at the Norski stood before him, looking hurt. Ha, Tom almost believe it was genuine, just for a second.

“Tom-”

“No.” Tord fell silent again, while Tom got to buttoning up his jacket and fixing his tie. “No more of this.” It was the closest they’d come, and it wasn’t sitting well with Tom, nor was the stinging pain on his neck, which was thankfully low enough to hide beneath the collar of his shirt. He may have pulled his gun on Tord had it been high up. In hindsight, he should be pulling his gun on Tord _anyway_ , but that wasn’t how their story ended, and he knew that. They weren’t going to get closure, they didn’t deserve it.

It was getting harder to doubt that the way Tord looked at him was an act. He’d never seen him look so defeated, and he had never been the best actor unless it was to do with his ego and power. He was great at bigging himself up - he had always been a piss poor liar when it came to his emotions.

It didn’t matter. They didn’t belong to each other, not anymore.   
Tord opened his mouth to speak, a second later just shaking his head and looking away. They were both at a loss for words, they knew they should be trying to kill each other, not dwelling on past times. They stood for different things - or more, different methods. Tord was violent, innocent lives lost were the means to an end. Tom spent most of his time protecting those affected or in danger from Tord’s forces. 

He stood before his rival, able to end it with one quick motion and a bullet. Instead he just stared, silent. Tord looked at him again, the one eye that still had fully functional tear ducts glistening in the light. Was he about to cry?

Tom grit his teeth, hand twitching for a moment, an attempt to reach for his gun. Instead, he found himself with his fists tight in Tord’s hoodie, which for some reason he still wore between his coat. Their lips were together again, hands were on his hip and the back of his head, pulling him closer, holding him tight. This was a mistake, he knew it. He was shaking, tears pricking behind his eyelids, he felt like he was dying inside. He wanted to pretend that everything was fine. If they had the option to, he’d forget all of this to go back to how it used to be.

He didn’t think about how that would never happen.

He found himself on his back, Tord grinding against him, keeping him pinned. He let the other hold his hands down above his head, rolling his own hips against the commies, each time they pressed against one another he shuddered. It had been a long time since he’d felt anyone other than himself, even then it was rare he found the time. _No more this_ , he’d said, when all he wanted was more of it. He wanted Tord to hold him, fuck him, mark him up, tell him he loved him. At the same time, he wanted to forget Tord, and everything about him.

For now, though, he was enjoying having Tord with him. Just like old times, they fucked until they couldn’t stand to anymore, curled up with each other on the spot after, holding one another. Tom wa tucked up under Tord’s chin, trembling and sobbing while the Norski comforted him. They both knew in a few minutes, they’d have to part ways again, and be done with each other.

“Fuck you for leaving.” Tom growled out between sobs. “Fuck you for leaving me, fuck you for coming back. You shouldn’t have come back.”

“I missed my old friends.”

“We were never friends.” Those words hung in the air, because neither of them could dispute it. They’d fucked, they’d loved each other, hated each other, but they’d never been friends - and now they never could be. 

Tom was up and getting dressed again a moment later, having dried his eyes. Once he looked a little less like he’d betrayed his morals and promises to himself, he looked at Tord once more, and spoke.

“If you so much as touch me again, I will kill you, and I will not hesitate.”

“Same to you.”

They looked at each other for a long, painful few seconds, neither of them wanting to mean what they said but knowing they’d have to.

“I love you, Tom.”

“No more of that.” With that, Tom left, closing the door behind him, chest heaving as he did. Next time he and Tord met, it would be to see who won the war, not to hold each other and pretend for an hour that things were ok. “I love you too.” He muttered under his breath, before straightening himself out, going to inform his forces that the attempt to reason with and bargain with Red Leader had been a failure yet again -

\- and that if they saw him again, they were to shoot to kill.


End file.
